THE BOSS

Jonathan Issa was still in Iraq when the soldiers and police officers in uniform, in rows of green and blue, filled the church for Joseph Camara's funeral.

Camara was a 21-year veteran of the Rhode Island National Guard, and had been a New Bedford police officer for four years. He was 40, a husband and a father of three.

"I didn't attend any kind of wake or funeral for him," says Issa, 25. "Obviously I was still over there. I have no closure on his death, I have no closure on him. It still haunts me at this day. Every night it's in my dreams. Every day I have daydreams about it. It doesn't stop.

"It feels as if it was 2 seconds ago, like it just happened."

Joe Camara was Issa's boss in the National Guard for seven years, and his friend, too.

Since Issa has returned to Central Falls, he has tried to speak to Camara's wife, but cannot find her. "I've exhausted every lead I've had," he says, "whether it is where they used to live, or old phone numbers or old cell phones, e-mail addresses. You name it, I've tried them all. Nothing, nothing is the same."

In his head, Issa still sees the sudden puff of dust that swallowed Camara's Humvee, which Issa witnessed from the turret of the second escort truck in the convoy. He sees the fire in his dreams, and remembers the exploding ammunition that made it impossible to retrieve his friend's body.

"When I watched his body perish like that, my life pretty much did the same thing," he says. "And, you know, with my family, my friends, my now ex-wife -- I've never been the same since."